


they'll give awards for anything (especially participation)

by pseudoanalytics



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, Oral Sex, PIV, Trans Bodhi, Trans Bodhi Rook, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudoanalytics/pseuds/pseudoanalytics
Summary: In Bodhi's honest opinion, having Cassian Andor's face between your legs must be the best view in the entire galaxy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> im bad at having opinions so i kind of just took fic preferences off a certain person's nsfw twitter and tried to cater to them...

Bodhi is pretty sure that Cassian has been throwing him looks all evening. Friendly looks, but looks all the same.

They’re war heroes now, decorated with shiny gold medals and with the thanks of the entire Alliance resting on their shoulders. Bodhi isn’t used to compliments. He’s used to insults and corrections and angry outbursts. The throng of celebrating rebels is slightly suffocating, but he's convinced the stress is balanced out by how good it feels to be congratulated.

It’s a little hard to concentrate though, on the smiling faces around him, when there’s the persistent vibe of being watched. It’s Cassian, he already knows; they’ve made eye contact several times now. Every time he glances over, right by the towering form of K-2SO, Cassian is looking or gesturing in his direction.

It’s making him sweat.

It probably doesn’t help that he’s still thinking about last night in Cassian’s room. 

The two of them have finally reached that point in their relationship where they’re starting to fool around, and Bodhi is living, honestly thriving, on the attention and touch. It loosens his tongue, and he babbles nonsensically, but just his luck, Cassian manages to make sense of his jibberish.

Bodhi really doesn’t remember giving his mouth clearance to make a request, but the words had tumbled out before he could stop them. Cassian had locked eyes with him, startled enough to stop grinding against his thigh. When there were several seconds of no response, Bodhi felt rather offended that asking to be eaten out could give such pause. Then Cassian had groaned and upped their tempo, and Bodhi was pretty sure that meant he approved of the suggestion; add in the fact that Cassian had later promised to make it a reality, and it seems fairly understandable why Bodhi is unable to get the whole incident off his mind.

The issue is more that thinking about Cassian Andor’s face between your legs is probably impolite when mid-conversation with a senator.

Bodhi is doing his best to nod along, but this after-ceremony party has been going for a while now, and Cassian’s glances are growing more heated and less friendly. K-2 gives him a light push in Bodhi’s direction, and he stumbles slightly from the impact before weaving through the crowd.

Mon Mothma is in the midst of a reiteration of her award presentation speech, but Cassian gently pulls Bodhi away with an apology and crooked salute. They slip away to the farewell waves and last minute congratulations of the throng, and at one point even Chirrut reaches out to catch Bodhi’s arm, though he misses when Baze drags him towards the food table instead.

Cassian waits until they’re out of sight of the other rebels before jogging down the hallway. The base is practically empty, what with everyone still at the party, so Bodhi doesn’t really care how ridiculous they look, running silently, grinning, side by side. When they reach his room, he thumbs the scanner, and the doors click open. Bodhi kicks aside detritus from projects he's working on, and Cassian makes himself at home on the bed.

“You know, every time I’ve looked down and seen this tonight, I’ve been a little shocked,” he murmurs, holding his medal tightly.

“Shocked you received it, or shocked we made it back in one piece?” Bodhi asks, sitting awkwardly on the edge of his own bed, uncertain of what they intend to do tonight.

“Shocked I received anything,” sighs Cassian, running a hand through his hair and looking up through his lashes. “I’m normally not the one doing the big, commendation-worthy jobs. I’m hustling some back-system planet for intelligence, dressed in dirty rags to try and fit in with the native populace. 

“You work hard,” Bodhi says, not really sure what to say. He wishes he could pull the words back into his mouth as soon as they’re free.

“Thank you.” Cassian shoots a smile in Bodhi’s direction. It’s a little forced still. Bodhi doesn’t think he’s used to the action quite yet. 

In the silence, the mood noticeably changes, and Cassian pulls both of their awards off, wrapping the medallions in their neck straps and setting them on the bedside table. When Bodhi scoots down next to him, Cassian flicks his eyes to his lips and back. It’s fairly obvious what he wants, but Bodhi waits anyway. The first press of lips is innocent until Cassian decides to add some tongue into the mix.

They get a pretty good rhythm going, and Bodhi’s breathing is speeding up considerably. Cassian has one hand splayed under his jaw, thumb rubbing his chin and throat, and the other eases into his ponytail, sliding out the tie.

Bodhi takes the opportunity to get two fists into Cassian’s hair, relishing the hitch in the other’s breath when he clenches them. Cassian eases Bodhi back on the bed and rolls his hips firmly to indicate his increasing interest. In return, Bodhi hooks a leg behind him and pulls them together. It’s a move he’d never had had the guts for until recently, though, until recently, he’d never have thought he’d ask Cassian Andor to eat him out either.

“Can I interest you in your request from last night?” Cassian pants in his ear. Bodhi releases a bit of a nervous chuckle but nods emphatically. 

“That’d be great, yeah. You, uh, you don’t have to, but it’d… yeah.”

A hand splays across his chest, keeping him pressed to the bed as Cassian slides down his body. “Have you— have you done this before?” Bodhi asks curiously.

“Er, yes. I have. Once.”

Bodhi lets an audible prayer slip out, and he aims it at the gray, metal ceiling. Warm hands slide under his shirt, running light touches up his sides and hips. When Cassian moves to start easing his sweats off of him, Bodhi arches to help. The movement forces him to become aware, quite suddenly, of how wet he is, and the realization makes him slap hands over his face.

Cassian jerks upward in alarm. “Bodhi? Are you okay?”

After a calming breath, he lets his hands fall back to his sides. “Yeah, sorry. Just, I’m a little bit of a mess right now, literally and figuratively.” He can tell Cassian is about to remind him that they can stop at anytime, so Bodhi reassures him and gently uses a hand to push him back down between his legs. Cassian lays his face against Bodhi’s thigh, and he can feel his stubble scraping against it.

A chill runs up Bodhi’s spine, the sensation borderline ticklish.

“You’re really warm,” Cassian breathes, hands drawing delicate swirls on increasingly intimate areas of Bodhi’s inner thigh.

“Yeah,” he responds elegantly, twisting his hands in the sheets at his side to help brace himself.

Cassian slides his underwear down to his knees, and Bodhi helps kick them off, raising his legs for Cassian to crawl between. Instead, Cassian drapes them over his shoulders, and suddenly his face is _right there,_ and Bodhi is ready to die.

“Hey,” huffs Cassian. “Why are you so tense?”

A little whine escapes before Bodhi can stop it. “Because I know you, and I know how you approach things you aren’t completely sure— _about_!” His hands fly down into soft hair, and his spine arches as Cassian dives in.

“What do you mean by that? What are you implying?” Cassian frowns, pulling back after a few seconds, just enough for Bodhi to breathe again.

“You… you always go all out if you’re uncertain, like you’re, _ah,_ like you’re trying to fool others into thinking you know what you’re doing.”

“Do you always try to analyze my thought processes, or is this a new habit?”

“It’s a— _ah—_ a— _yes, Cassian_ — Sorry, what… what was the question?”

Cassian is using a finger to swirl gently over Bodhi’s clit, and if he expects him to keep up a conversation under these conditions, he’s going to be very disappointed.

“Never mind. It’s not important,” Cassian says calmly, sliding his finger lower and applying light pressure until it slips in. Bodhi’s thighs are twitching and jumping now, heels pressing into Cassian’s back.

When that finger curls up and pushes firmly at the exact place Bodhi had been hoping it would, he can’t help but swear, grinding down onto Cassian’s hand. “Aren’t you, supposed to be doing, something else, down there?” he pants.

“I’m trying to warm you up. You’ve been on edge.”

“I’m already warmed up. I am— _fuck—_ so warm. It’s sweltering in here. Please, do _something,_ Cassian.”

With a deep breath, Cassian bends in to press his tongue flat against Bodhi, right above his own finger. He flicks gently, in time with the delicate thrusts of his hand. When there’s a harsh exhale and inhale of breath above him, he seals his mouth around Bodhi’s clit and sucks hard, tongue still working nimbly.

Bodhi knows he squeezes Cassian’s hair too tightly, so he retreats with his hands, opting to grab the sheets by his sides, then above his head, before covering his face and then holding his own arms. He really has no idea what to do with them, but he can’t spare brain space to think of any good alternatives, because Cassian isn’t letting up, and he’s now dangerously close to coming. 

His breath is loud in his ears, but that tensing coil is building rapidly, and Bodhi tips his head back on the pillow, eyes shut as he starts to shake.

Cassian eases his index out and replaces it with his middle and ring fingers instead. Rather than knocking Bodhi over the edge, the change somehow pulls him back, and he gets a bit of a reprieve to continue enjoying the sensations. Cassian’s stubble is rubbing against his sensitive skin, and Bodhi holds his breath only to gasp it out a second later at a particularly hard release of suction.

Cassian slips his fingers out and uses his mouth to cover Bodhi, slipping his tongue both between his folds and higher up.

Bodhi can feel himself clenching, practically jerking, and his toes curl as he uses his legs to physically press Cassian’s face further into him, and Cassian probably can’t breathe, and he should let him up for air, but it’s too late because Bodhi is coming with a low moan, and he’s fisting one hand in Cassian’s hair and one in his own. The tension leaks instantly out of his legs, and they fall languidly open, thighs shaking.

Cassian comes up, a expression of awe on his face as he looks down. He slides reverent hands along Bodhi’s legs, openly amazed. Bodhi is just thinking that he could lay drowsily here forever, when he sees the slick wetness caught in Cassian’s beard, and his body flushes hot all over again.

“You’re honestly incredible,” Cassian whispers. His hands still haven’t stopped moving.

Bodhi can feel the air on the cool dampness Cassian’s right one leaves behind. He thinks he might be up to go again.

“Hey. What about you?” he asks, and Cassian smiles politely.

“I’m fine, if you’re tired. It’s not a problem.”

It might be more convincing if Bodhi couldn’t see the damp spot collecting on Cassian’s tented pants. He doesn’t care anyway. He wants this.

When Cassian moves to get off the bed, Bodhi extends his foot, pressing the sole against Cassian’s cheek, effectively stopping his unfavorable trajectory. “Um. Do you— would you— you could fuck me?”

Just watching Cassian’s pupils dilate at his words is enough to make Bodhi a little desperate.

“Is that a question, or an honest offer?” rasps Cassian, a hand moving up to hold Bodhi’s ankle.

“I’d like it. A lot.”

“How could I ever turn that down?” Cassian lays flat across Bodhi, stretching to reach his mouth, and the slick in his beard is just a further reminder of how wet Bodhi still is, and how quickly he’d like Cassian inside of him.

Bodhi reaches over Cassian’s shoulders to grab the back of his shirt and pull it over his head. Cassian sits back on his haunches to slide his own sweats and boxers off in one go.

“Condoms,” Bodhi croaks, trying to ignore the embarrassing voice crack. He fumbles with the side table and produces a box. Cassian reaches for it, and Bodhi’s terrible, traitorous fingers spasm, and he drops the box off the bed. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’ll get it…”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Cassian assures him, bending off the bed to grab a package. Bodhi’s eyes widen and his jaw drops at the sight of the long stretch of Cassian’s spine and the dip leading up to his ass. He can’t resist reaching out to touch it, propping himself up on an elbow, and Cassian shivers under his hand.

He comes back up with a condom, breathing heavily, and Bodhi loses all self-restraint at his flushed face.

Bodhi sneaks a hand down to rub tight circles over his own clit, and he feigns apology when Cassian knocks him away.

“Hold on. Give me a second over here. Don’t be so impatient.” Cassian rolls the condom on and settles over Bodhi, grazing the backs of his fingers down his torso one last time. He grips himself and slips gently against the softest place between Bodhi’s legs for lubrication. “You’re sure about this?" 

Bodhi decides he’s done being frustrated, and with a flex of his hips, he leverages his legs behind Cassian’s back, pressing him in. There’s a whooshing exhale, and then Cassian is leaning down to kiss him, continuing his slow, easy slide.

Bodhi can’t actually keep up the kiss; he’s panting too hard, oversensitive, and the drag of Cassian’s dick inside of him is stealing his breath. He tilts his head back to gasp for air, and Cassian weaves his fingers into Bodhi’s hair, sucking light marks on his neck that fade as quickly as he leaves them.

When Cassian is fully seated, he gives gentle rolls of his hips to acclimate them both. His initial thrusts are gentle and leisurely, sinking in and easing out over and over. Bodhi clenches tightly around him, squeezing in a rapid rhythm until Cassian loses his facade of calm and muffles a moan in Bodhi’s shoulder. He sets a new pace, much faster and harder, and Bodhi is gasping again, riding the edge of too much and not enough.

“ _Cassian_ ,” he breathes, digging fingers into the other’s back and shoulders.

In response, Cassian tries to rub fingers against Bodhi’s clit, but by now he’s far too sensitive, and he has to bat them away. He fits his own hand down there instead, cupping himself and applying firm pressure. It still has him jerking as Bodhi tries to pull his hips up in counterpoint to Cassian’s thrusts. 

“How close are you?” asks Cassian, rhythm faltering.

“I don’t— know. Pretty close.” There’s a slight angle change to Cassian’s next movements, and it has Bodhi arching again in an attempt to somehow press even closer together. “ _Hah!_ Stay right there! Very close. _Very_ close.”

Cassian transfers his weight to his left arm, leaning their foreheads together, and reaches down with his right. He uses the backs of his knuckles to push against Bodhi’s cupped hand, and the additional stimulation to his clit has Bodhi coming. He’s immediately trying to both squirm away from and grind against Cassian, but his erratic clenching catches Cassian off guard and knocks him over the edge as well. They shake together, and Bodhi still isn’t coming down from his high and it’s absolutely wonderful.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Cassian is whispering against his sweaty temple, and Bodhi scoffs lightly.

“Shouldn’t I be thanking you?”

Cassian rises up, their hips still connected, and brushes a hand through Bodhi’s hair where it’s splayed across the pillow. He looks like he’s in utter disbelief again, looking down at Bodhi. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he murmurs, like the moment might break if he speaks up.

Cassian eases out slowly, and Bodhi lets another moan loose at the tingling sensation. The condom is tied off and tossed, and after some quick repositioning, they can lay out on the bed. There’s a definite wet spot under Bodhi’s back, but it’s his fault it’s there to begin with, so he doesn’t complain. Instead he physically shoulders Cassian over and curls up against his warm skin.

Cassian props up on an arm to stare across Bodhi at his medal again. “You know, I feel like I won several awards today.”

“You have a lot of faith in your skills, don’t you?” Bodhi teases, and Cassian desperately backpedals, assuring him that wasn’t what he’d meant.

“I’m not the best at eating someone out, I know,” he winces. “But I know I can do more.”

Bodhi snorts, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. “Well, it’s like they say: practice makes slightly better.”

Cassian pushes Bodhi away, right into the wet spot. “Practice _could_ make perfect. And hey, at least it wasn’t completely terrible.”

“I don’t know,” Bodhi muses jokingly, feeling powerful for some reason. It might be that he’s managed to have Cassian Andor between his legs at his beck and call, and it might be that he’s finally getting a reaction from the typically composed captain. Flustered and apologetic is typically _his_ job, but he’s relishing the role switch. “It wasn’t awful, but it’s going to need a lot of work.”

Cassian spoons up behind him, pulling the covers over the two of them. “Well, I certainly look forward to every chance I get to improve.”

**Author's Note:**

> speaking of practice makes perfect, yours truly over here STILL trying to write a decent nsfw fic
> 
> this is NOT dedicated to abby, bc in no way shape or form is this related to her AT ALL.................
> 
> instead, this is dedicated to my twitter inspiration. thanks for this.


End file.
